It’s time for swimming lessons!

I don’t know if you remember my School’s Out for the Summer post where I outlined an  ambitious list of things I must get done to get this summer vacation thing going.  Number 4 on the list was to enroll the little kids into swimming classes so that they can learn to swim.

Youngest especially, loves the pool and is not at all afraid of the water. He swims with either a life-vest or his swimming suit with a built in floaty (the best invention on this planet!).  His thing is to run and jump into the pool at 50 miles per hour.  

So yesterday I’m at my in-laws spending the day helping my sister-in-law prepare for her son’s big first birthday bash which is today.  Between the two of us, we had five little kids to keep track of and a party to prepare for.  To be exact, there was one, one year old, two four year olds, one five year old, and an eight year old.  At some point it was just me and the kids outside swimming while my S-I-L worked her fondant magic on the five layer cake she was making herself. (YES, five layers, with fondant, three different flavors, all homemade.  She’s your next Food Network Cake star. Watch.) 

Long story short, we were  all finished swimming, everyone had taken off their life-vests, and we were picking up the pool toys. I had managed for the entire two  hours to only get my legs wet which was perfect because I’m not a fan of swimming. 

Next thing you know, Youngest made a run for it and jumped “like a superhero” into the deep end of the pool to get the goggles floating in the water.  The boy completely forgot  he was not wearing his life vest.  He sank all the way down and slowly managed to get himself up to the surface. I watched in shock trying to process what the heck was going on.  

Once again, with my jet pack on my back, I sprang into action, leaped across the pool,  jumped in, and pulled him out of the water-   soaked, head-to- toe. 

It’s a good thing my watch is water proof.  Actually, it’s a good thing my hair wasn’t done because we would’ve had a serious issue.

P.S. My Jet Pack is about out of gas. I’m over being the super mom.